Officer Calling 1080
by A Tragic Galaxy
Summary: Officer John Weldon was the new cop in town. He had been briefly informed of a certain dynamic duo who patrolled the streets at night. He had NOT been warned that one of those two heroes was a child. Nor had he been cautioned that he should NEVER argue speeding regulations with Batman.


_****"This is the best day of my life!" _

Jason Todd is so _CUTE_ in that scene from _Batman Under the Red Hood_! :3 I'm going to keep him!

Oh.

That's right.

**I do not own Young Justice or anything related to DC comics.**

Phooey.

* * *

**Useful information for the story:**

***10-80 is a police code for Initiating Pursuit.**

***510 is a police code for Speeding.**

***505A is a police code for Reckless Driving.**

***417 is a police code for Person With a Gun.**

***417k is a police code for Person With a Knife.**

***273A is a police code for Child Neglect.**

***213 is a police code for Use of Illegal Explosives.**

**Note: These are s**_**ome **_**forms of police code and may not be applicable in all states.**

* * *

Officer John Weldon was new to his post in Gotham. He had only been briefly informed of its dredgeries, its psychopathic villains and the frequent visits of heroes from neighboring cities. He had received a scant description of a certain dynamic duo who patrolled the streets at night and kept the criminals at bay.

He had not been warned that one of those two heroes was a child.

Nor had he been cautioned that he should _never_ argue the letter of the law with Batman.

Hence, when he saw a red and black motorcycle driving over one hundred miles per hour _against_ the traffic, Officer Weldon did not hesitate to channel headquarters.

"Officer Weldon calling 10-80* on a 510*... er, make that a 505A* on a black and red RV cycle. No liscence plate in view. Initiating pursuit."

Gunning the engine Weldon tore off after the vehicle, sirens wailing, rubber smoking against the pavement. He did not notice the black ford his brightly clad quarry was following at a feverish pace, nor the large, fancy dressed man shouting curses over the noise of traffic. He did not realize that at that moment fifty-nine police officers were gathering around headquarter radios and ninety others were listening in on the chase. In fact, Weldon was completely ignorant to the fact that bets were being passed around even now as to whether or not a certain red clad hero would be issued a traffic violation.

Whoever the driver of the RV cycle was, he was either insanely brilliant or just plain stupid. With expert precision he weaved his vehicle around the oncoming cars, skirting around the front of a semi-truck and swerving to avoid a collision with a blaring convertible. He was narrowing rapidly on his target and now began to _stand _on the seat of his motorcycle, preparing to jump or commit who-knows-what-kind-of-insanity.

Enough was enough! Panicked by the kid's crazy stunts (and he could tell now that the driver had to be underage), Weldon screeched to the right of the boy's motorbike and latched a hand onto his shoulder, pushing him back onto his seat.

"Hey! What - !"

"Reduce speed and pull over," Weldon shouted over the loudspeaker. The kid looked more than prepared to argue, but with a grumbling sigh he slowed his motorcycle down. Weldon backed off slightly, giving the kid room to park at the side of the road.

Traffic was backing up considerably by now, vehicles lining the edges of the roadway where they had moved aside to let the police officer through. Pulling in behind the oddly garbed delinquent Officer Weldon waved for the line of cars to continue on. He stepped out and he pulled a notepad from his back pocket, licking the end of his pen and scribbling down the growing list of traffic offenses.

"Do you have any idea what crazy stunts you were trying to pull?" he berated the kid, shaking his head at the idiocy of youth. "Driving against traffic, going seventy miles over the speed limit, driving without a _helmet_, no - "

"Look, Officer," the kid spoke up, his mannerism screaming impatience, "I don't think you know what's going on here. That was Penguin who just went through - "

"I don't care if it was your schizophrenic grandmother," Officer Weldon rolled his eyes. "Driving through a red light on the_ left side _of _oncoming traffic_ is a serious breach of the rules, boy. Now where's your liscense plate?"

"It's the _Robin Cycle,_" the kid retorted scathingly. "It doesn't have one."

The thundercloud glower sent in his direction was intended to intimidate, Weldon was certain, but he was too ticked off by this kid's impertinence to be properly terrified. "Driving without a license plate, then. That's at least five marks against you so far. I assume you don't have a driver's licence, either."

"Does _this _work?" the kid growled, holding up an identity card of some sort. He looked quite agitated now, as though a cop reminding him of the duties of the law was a waste of his time.

Weldon took the card and examined it skeptically, raising an eyebrow at the masked figure pictured. "'Young Justice League: Robin, Serial: B-01, Age: thirteen, Protege of: Batman.' Pretty fancy get-up, kid, but this ain't a licence."

"What - Look! I'm _Robin_! You know, the 'Boy Wonder?'" Robin hesitated, studying Weldon shrewdly through his mask. "You're new at this, aren't you?"

He sighed heavily, rubbing a hand through his unruly ebony hair. "Look, the cops around here know me. I work with Batman and help keep the criminal in Arkhaam. In fact, I'm supposed to be chasing one down right now. Just call Officer Gordon if you don't believe me."

Oh, so _this_ was one of those vigilantes he had heard of. Well, that might put things into perspective, but ... really, this kid had no business driving the way he had without proper authority.

"Hmph. I see. Well, that's no excuse for your driving, _Robin._" Weldon pointed out, jotting down the information he had just received. Was this kid really only _thirteen_? What kind of freaked out squadron would send him out on an unliscensed motorcycle when those frontol brain lobes _clearly_ hadn't fully developed?

"Can't you just call Officer Gordon and have him explain?" the kid practically whined.

"I assure you, he'll have the full details in my report," Weldon snorted, scribbling down a few more felonies he had witnessed. "Ignoring the double yellow line dividing traffic, illegal u-turn in the middle of the intersection, no use of turn signals during your serpent style road rage..."

"_Road rage?_" Robin spluttered, "Tell that to the guy I was chasing down!"

"Driving underage," _**way **_underage, "Inadequate driver's liscense," here Weldon returned the card to the blustering sidekick, "No proper securing on the footrest, _**standing**_on the seat of your vehicle... Do your parents know what you've been doing?"

"My parents are dead," Robin snapped.

Officer Weldon cleared his throat awkwardly and mumbled, "Apologies, kid. Do you have a legal guardian, then?"

"Can I call Batman?"

"Is he your guardian?" Weldon sighed. Really, this kid was trying his patience. He was tallying up the criminal offenses worse than an armed robber with an injured hostage. At this rate he'd be lucky to get any form of licence before he was twenty-five.

"I'm _Robin_," Robin said tartly. "I think that automatically makes Batman my guardian."

"You have documents to prove that?"

"_What_?" Robin squeaked, "What kind of proof do you need? Honestly, didn't they tell you _anything_ back at headquarters?"

"From what I can tell, you're a teenaged thrill seeker masquerading as a vigilante - "

"Not the bad guy, here!"

" - Wearing a _mask_ to conceal your identity, who is driving underage with an illegal license. Not to mention you've violated nearly every rule in the book. Kid, you're coming down with me to headquarters."

Robin was silent for a moment. "You're kidding."

"Don't make me add disobeying a police officer the list," Weldon warned gravely. Reaching for his radio he signalled, "This is Officer Weldon with the 510, 505A... 417*," he added, noticing the utility belt strapped around the kid's waist. "Likely 417k* as well." Those sharp disks peaking out of Robin's side pouch were certainly _not _crafted from plastic. "Calling in a 273A*, for that matter, for one Batman. I'm bringing the kid down to headquarters. Officer Weldon out."

"This is not asterous," Robin muttered, glaring at the asphalt. "Heavy on the _dis_."

Whatever that meant. "All right, kid," Weldon ordered, unlocking the side door and motioning for Robin to get in. "Leave the cycle here and I'll have someone tow it back to headquarters."

At that moment distant shots echoed. Robin's head shot up at the sound and before Weldon could make a sound the RV cycle's engine roared to life.

"Sorry, Officer," Robin called, a handful of disks hitting the ground and issuing clouds of grey smoke, "Gotta get this."

Coughing and choking Officer Weldon stumbled back inside his car, shutting the door tightly and hacking the irritating substance from his lungs. Activating his radio he croaked, "Officer Weldon here: Target escaped. Adding a 213* to the list."

With so many charges ringing up for one person, Weldon was beginning to wonder why backup had not been sent by now. At the moment he was more aggravated at the kid than fearful for his life, however. After all, Robin hadn't threatened to attack him; merely argued the point until he finally made a break away. And from the looks of things he was _still_ piling on the traffic violations!

Growling under his breath Weldon gunned the engine, streaking after the motorcycle with a screech of brakes. "Not on my watch are you going to get away with this."

By the time he caught up to Robin the kid had already stopped, his cycle parked _illegally _in the middle of the road while he strapped a pair of handcuffs to an agitated man wearing a business suit. Another police officer was standing close by, congratulating the kid for his good work.

"Oh, and one more thing," the officer added, glancing sideways at Weldon. He stepped up behind casually Robin and suddenly pulled the kid's hands behind his back, cinching a pair of handcuffs securely but not too tightly around slender wrists. With a tease in his voice he announced, "From the looks of things you're under arrest."

Robin gaped, staring back at the other officer as though he had grown three heads. "I'm _what_?"

"Under arrest for charges of armed felony and reckless drivin'," the officer grinned, touching two fingers to his hat in a mock salute. "Mind you, that's Officer _Weldon's _charge, not mine."

"I don't believe this!" Robin shouted in outrage. "Officer Stanley, you know who I am. Tell this guy to lay off the speeding regulations already!"

"Love to, but, um," Stanley winced, "Can't stand around to argue the point. Hafta deliver the prisoner, after all. You'd better go with him, Robin. Commander Gordon can clear everythin' up."

All officers who had radio access were caught up in this escapade now, and it was considered only justice that the prank dealing and cheeky Robin be dealt out a cruel little joke at the hand of the newest rookie. Of course, Stanley would take care not to let on that _he _had any part in the matter. Facing the wrath of the Bat was a realm no one who valued their life dared tread.

"Come on, then, kid," Weldon insisted, taking Robin's elbow and lifting him to his feet. "The sooner you get this over with the better."

"Better keep a close eye on him," Stanley pointed out as he locked The Penguin in his own vehicle. "He's a slippery one."

"I don't believe this!" Robin repeated. "This is not whelming! Not whelming at all!"

* * *

When Officer Weldon drove into the police headquarters he found it curious that so many idle officers should be standing around watching. Passing it off as their way of amusement in witnessing 'the rookie's first catch,' he paid them no mind as he turned to unlock the door to Robin's compartment.

To his surprise the door was already unlatched. Robin glanced up from where he had been leaning against the seat cushions, hands knitted behind his head. His eyes gleamed with amusement even behind the mask, unsettling Weldon more than he wanted to let on.

"Are we here already?" Robin asked nonchallantly, stretching leisurely and yawning.

"How did you ... oh." The question was left hanging as Robin demonstrated the lock picks concealed in his gloves. Stanley wasn't kidding when he said the kid was slippery. Weldon realized he should probably consider himself lucky that Robin was still in the car.

Pushing the matter aside he took the young hero by the arm and led him firmly but without unneccessary roughness into the lobby... where, perplexingly, he had a welcoming commity.

"So, the Boy Wonder finally gets his due!" Officer Pete called out, cackling at his own joke. "Don't worry, we've got a nice cage already set up for our favorite Robin. Would you like a perch for the night or do you prefer hanging from your ankles like the Bat?"

"That's enough," Commander Gordon interceded, stepping calmly from his office. He had to admit he was bemused by the turn of events, but precautions would need to be taken to ensure the police gathering didn't turn into an angry mob. "Pete, I believe you have patrol duty."

"Just thought I'd say 'hi' to our favorite street sweeper," Pete jibed, casting a look of veiled hatred in Robin's direction. He shoved past Robin none too gently, cursing as he suddenly tripped.

"Why you - !"

"Patrol, Pete!" Gordon's ordered forcefully.

"He just - !"

"Why the handcuffs?" Robin said icily, demonstrating with the wrist Pete had brushed against, where a cuff had been latched tight enough to cut off circulation.

"All right, that's enough," Gordon commanded. "The lot of you: head to your duties. Weldon, Parkerson, you're with me. Christopher, take Weldon's post. The rest of you clear the station."

Mumbled 'Yessir's' and muted comments about the situation echoed through the crowded room as the cops slowly filed out. Some cast dire looks in Robin's direction, others clapped him heartily on the back and wished him luck, and chuckles were gleaned from nearly every officer.

Robin appeared unfazed by the commotion, even where Pete's threat was concerned. As soon as the four were alone in the room, however, his bravado disappeared. He seemed to shrink ever so slightly into himself, asking quietly,

"Can you get this off?" He indicated his wrist, where already the skin surrounding the metal cuff was beginning to bruise.

Gordon sighed heavily, fishing out a key and removing the binder with frustrated anger flickering in his eyes. "Sorry about that, Robin. You all right?"

"Yeah," the kid responded, lacking his previous cheer. Only now did Weldon notice the traces of bruises beginning to form. Had the boy been injured in the fight with his quarry earlier? He hadn't appeared to be in any sort of pain. Perhaps he hadn't noticed the blows in the commotion, or he perhaps he had a higher pain tolerance then Weldon would have credited.

It was at that moment a dark shadow swept into the room, the atmosphere growing colder as heavy boots stamped into the lobby. "Robin?"

The kid gave a barely discernable sigh of relief, turning with the others to face the Dark Knight himself. "Hey, Batman. Sorry I'm late. They've got a _rule stickler _on patrol."

Batman's gaze fixated on Weldon and he suddenly understood the unspoken terror that filtered conversations regarding the rumored 'Bat-Glare.' If _this_ was what criminals faced every night... well, if he were one of them he'd probably be ready to wet his pants, too.

The moment was cut mercifully short as Batman curtly asked, "Are you all right, Robin?"

"Fine," Robin responded dully, sighing as he rubbed the bruising on his wrist. "Not feeling the aster, though."

Batman immediately narrowed in on the injury, his glower snapping back to Weldon as he demanded with eerie calm, "Did you do this to him?"

"Wh-what?" Weldon couldn't help the stammer that caught his tongue. "Wait, _that_? No, I didn't - "

"Weldon didn't harm him," Gordon spoke up. "He was just doing his job. Stanley reported that Robin was already in a fight with The Penguin. You can thank one of the lesser officers for that bruising on his wrist. I'll see to it that the situation is adressed."

"Do so," Batman said grimly. He laid a hand on Robin's shoulder as the boy swayed, guiding him with surprising gentleness to a chair and ignoring his protests that he was 'perfectly fine.'

"What gave you the idea you had the right to detain him here?" he adressed Weldon in a chilling tone.

Taking a deep breath, (a _very_ deep breath, as this guy was enough to make anyone lose their nerve), Weldon responded calmly,

"Sir, this kid was driving an unliscensed motorbike without a helmet, driver's liscense or proper safety equipment. He violated thirty traffic laws total, including a severe speeding penalty, driving under the permitted age of sixteen, and wielding dangerous equipment. Now tell me this; how is it you can willingly allow a mere child to go so far beyond the law when - so they t_ell_ me - you are attempting to preserve it yourself?"

"All right, I can explain this," Gordon interjected, pushing Robin back into his chair when the teen attempted to stand up and defend himself upon Weldon's reference to him as a 'mere child.' "Weldon, I realize you haven't been informed of the exceptions made concerning the Young Justice Team. I'll see to it you have a fully detailed report on what to expect from each of their members.

"Batman, I apologize for this mistake. I would not have detained your protege save for the matter that it is true that he should have proper liscensing for himself and his vehicle. Now before you say anything further," he added as Batman began to interrupt, "If I expect my officers to drive with identification plates, it's only natural that the same should be asked of Robin. I won't ask you to register the Batmobile, but it will save a lot of trouble in the future if we can identify the liscense ahead of time and rectify future complications."

"Do we have to do it now?" Robin asked blearily, cupping his chin in his hand as his eyelids drooped. "It's four in the morning; I've got school in three hours."

It was all Weldon could do to keep hs mouth shut. The kid had just chased down a criminal, hacked a complex locking system and mouthed off an officer for good measure, and he was worried about _school_ that day? What kind of brat was this?

"This won't take long," Gordon assured Batman, "But I'll need it completed before I can let you take him on patrol again. You can take it with your or finish it here, but I'll need him present for a few photographs; don't worry, he can keep the mask on."

Batman's eyes flitted between Robin, Gordon and the stack of papers shoved into his hand. Growling deep in his throat and casting Gordon a scaulding look as though to say,_ 'You are going to regret this when I send the next Arkhaam criminal sailing through your windshield' _he swept his cape aside and settled into a chair. The three officers retreated to Gordon's office, giving the Justice leader his space.

"Are you getting this on the security cameras?" Gordon muttered to Parkerson around a cup of coffee.

"Every word," Parkerson grinned, checking the recording sequence to ensure the video would be saved just in case Batman decided to take out said security cameras.

"Is this... normal?" Weldon inquired cautiously, not certain what to make of the 'deadly Batman' filling out a paperwork form while his young protoge, now fast in danger of losing all contact with the world, had wrapped his cloak around himself like a blanket and was curled up against the dark knight. It was kind of... adorable... in a really weird sort of way.

"Should see him when he's angry," Gordon snorted, following Weldon's gaze. "You got it off lucky, you know; most rookies who arrested his boy would find themselves hanging from the flagpole by this time."

"His... boy...?"

Parkerson grinned. "Yeah, Batman's in 'Daddybats' mode right now. He's really protective over his little bird. Don't ever say that within his hearing, though. Bad idea. Like, _really_ bad idea." Looking shrewdly at Gordon he mentioned, "He didn't really _have _to do that paperwork, did he?"

"Like I'm going to pass up on this kind of opportunity? Pete's not the only one who gets aggravated by the Bat from time to time."

"So this is all just a practical joke," Weldon observed.

"Oh, no, it's real enough," Gordon shook his head. "I've been concerned about this for a while. The kid might land in juvenile hall if the wrong officer catches him next time; I won't be answering to Batman when that happens."

"I wouldn't be dealing with him now, if I were you," Parkinson whistled low and quiet. "From the look of things he hates paperwork."

Indeed, the Bat-Glower would have sizzled paperwork if the documents had not been considered imperitive. An iron fist would have crushed the armrest if a certain dark haired teen had not been curled up against it. The pointed ears would have been smoking - metal or not - had there not been danger of the fire alarms setting off the sprinklers overhead and awakening the slumbering Robin. Officer Gordon was right; the dreaded Batman was a softy when it came to his protege.

Even so, that didn't mean Weldon wanted to be around when he finished the documentation. Gordon sensed his uneasiness and nodded towards the door.

"I'll send you the guidebook for dealing with those two before your next patrol," Gordon assured him softly. "Until then, make yourself scarce."

Officer Weldon could not have been happier to comply.

* * *

"So you _let _him arrest you ... and he got away with it?"

Wally stared at the photo of a bleary eyed, half awake Robin caught in the picture. He had been in the middle of blinking when the picture took, giving him a half drunk appearance. Robin had derisively compared the photo on his license to the Joker before throwing it in the general direction of the fire.

Even after being pulled from school for the day to rest, Dick was making up for a two week coffee run with less than four hours of sleep a night and his aim were thankfully far from adequate. Bruce would not have been pleased if he had had to endure _another _photo shooting after the last mishap. He had half led, half carried Robin out of the room the minute the licensing process was over, the batmobile tearing off at a velocity that made Gordon almost wish he had ordered a license for Batman as well. _Almost_.

Wally examined the plastic card with intrigue; it was the first to be customized specifically for a league member, after all. "'Name: Robin. Age: 13. Weight: 103' - _One-o-three?_ Dude, you have got to start eating more."

Dick responded by throwing a couch cushion at his head.

"'License issued in the city of Gotham by Officer James Gordon. Driver is permitted to utilize the roads in Gotham city within the same ruling as a police officer.'"

"They made me get a gun license, too," Dick whined under the pillow he had thrown over his face upon hearing Wally's reading. "Batman was ready to throttle them."

No one had to guess that Robin's initial plaintitive attitude at the police station had been a warm-up for Batman's arrival. After all, no one trolled Robin without receiving vengeance tenfold. Exhaustion had caught up in the end and cinched Robin's ploy in perfect timing. Weldon had yet to face the Daddybat's wrath.

"What _did_ Batman do to Officer Weldon?" Roy questioned, taking the card from Wally and examining it with mingled pity and scorn.

"Nothing," Dick moaned. "He tossed me in the Batmobile and once we got back ordered me to go to bed and stay there until Alfred came to wake me up. I was stuck in my room for _hours!_ Not asterous!"

"Wait, he didn't even _reprimand_ that guy?" Wally was abashed. "He didn't wipe out his car, or hang him from the nearest telephone wire, or even give him the Daddybats lecture?"

"I think he was just trying to get away from the paperwork," Dick considered. "Weldon was gone by the time he finished. Besides, it was too close to daylight to chase him down without jeopardizing his identity."

Wally and Roy exchanged a glance.

"Dude, we have got to do something about this," Wally announced.

"You'd only be arrested for armed assault on a police officer," Dick pointed out with a groan. "Believe me, Weldon would see it done. Seeing as Roy is eighteen he'd probably also accuse him of dragging a minor into the crime."

"Hey!"

"Rob's got a point," Roy said, clapping a hand on Wally's shoulder and giving him a sly wink. At Wally's blank look of bewilderment he added, "After all, didn't the League teach us there are other methods besides violence?"

After all, if the next morning Officer Weldon's pristine lawn was carpeted with exactly 3,001 arrows stuck into the ground, he could only blame it on the hobby shop selling a massive order to a herd of pranksters. If his house was toilet papered and painted bright red and yellow with interspersed Flash and Kid Flash symbols, it was probably to be blamed on a local gang out for a night of fun. If Weldon's civilian car radio was hacked and played nothing but Pokemon music, the cartoon Batman theme, and a recording of insane cackling, then the fault clearly lay with the auto repair man.

And _if _the following day after that he discovered his car had been mysteriously levitated to the roof, the handles of his silverware and combat knives had uncannily morphed into images of the Justice League, the entire backyard, basement _and _garage had been flooded (and how all the water had managed to stay inside _until_ Weldon opened the door was beyond him), the lamposts outside his house had been twisted into the symbol of Superman (and then dented further out of place with what looked like a serious fist strike), and several hundred wanted posters had been secured with arrows around the neighborhood - complete with _his_ picture and description and accusing him of kidnapping a minor, well then it was time to wonder if picking on the youngest brother of the Young Justice Team had been his wisest course of action.

And if, by any chance, the next morning found the Superman lampposts pulverized to dust, an outraged Officer Pete hanging from the roof where Weldon's car used to be, and said car crushed onto the pavement with a batterang pinning thirty tickets with his handwriting to the smashed hood...

Well, it was safe to assume one _never _instigated the wrath of Daddybats.


End file.
